I'm Here
by JP McClendon
Summary: When Bray Wyatt speaks, you need to listen. WIP. Please R&R!
1. Prologue: Welcome

**Author's Note:** I do not own the WWE. I don't claim to own the WWE. I don't own the rights to the wrestling personalities associated with the WWE. I don't claim to own the rights to any wrestling personalities associated with the WWE. This is a work of fanfiction. That said, enjoy!

 **Prologue: Welcome**

Underneath the star field, at the end of the trail of fireflies, and deep into the woods sits a house. The house is in a sorry state of disrepair. One would think that it was abandoned if there was not a single light from an oil lantern burning in one of the windows. As you approach, the door opens on its own. An ominous mist appears to billow forth from within, growing in intensity as you approach. A cold chill comes over you as you get closer to the entrance. Doubt begins to set in. You know you should turn from the house and spirit yourself away, but you find yourself inexplicably drawn nearer. With no warning, a figure appears in the mist holding a lantern similar to the one in the window. Silently, the figure bids you enter in. Your legs move you forward, as though they were controlled by another. Once you are close to the entrance you can see the figure more clearly. It is a man in a red flannel shirt with a large bushy beard and wild fierce eyes. A crazed smile comes to his face and he steps aside for you. You know you shouldn't enter the house, but you do anyway. As you cross the threshold, the heat from within assaults you, but it gives you no warmth. The man in the red flannel gestures down the hallway, clearly indicating the way you must go. Fearful, you move down the hallway. The only light is now behind you. You don't want to press forward, but you know it is too late to turn back. Blissfully, or perhaps terrifyingly, a light begins to flicker at the end of the hallway. Somehow, the occasional light scares you more than the total darkness. Every now and again, you think you see someone, someone simply waiting for you to approach them. All at once, the flickering light stops. Again, all is darkness. Your progress forward slows. Suddenly, the once flickering light comes back on at full strength. You've reached the end of the hall. Underneath the light is a very tall man wearing a black sheep's mask. His arms are folded, and though you cannot see his eyes, you know his gaze is burrowing straight through you. Before you can open your mouth to ask him where you should go next, he uncoils one of his impossibly large arms and points downwards towards a set of stairs off to his side. He makes no other movement, he doesn't even appear to be breathing. Looking down the stairs, they are cramped, almost claustrophobic. A light from all the way at the bottom is barely lighting the way. You proceed downwards. Will it simply be a basement when you get there? Or perhaps, just perhaps, at the bottom of the stairs will be Hell. Right now, such a revelation wouldn't surprise you. The stairs are so steep and narrow that you must move slowly just to keep from falling. You reach a tiny landing and find that the stairs coiled around and continue their downward path towards the unknown. After several more agonizing minutes, you finally reach the bottom. The ground beneath you is cold stone. You now see the source of the light that lit your way down. It is another man. In his outstretched hand is another oil lantern. On his face is a damaged white sheep's mask. With his free hand he beckons you forward toward a closed wooden door just to his side. You move forward with fear gripping your soul. As you move forward, the man in the sheep's mask stands steadier than a statue. Once you are at the door, his head suddenly snaps to face you. With his free hand, he opens the door for you, never once taking his eyes off of you. Inside is darkness. "Come in," says a voice with an ominous gentility. His invitation compels you and you enter the room within, even though every fiber of your being tells you to run. But you can't run, it's too late for that. "I've been waiting for you. And now, you're here."

Suddenly, the door to the room swings shut violently as though blown by a strong wind and all is darkness.

 **To be continued...**


	2. He Who Increases Knowledge

**He Who Increases Knowledge**

Your pulse quickens. Your heart is caught in your throat. "I will help you to see," says the gentle voice. Numerous oil lanterns from all around the room come to life. Their light starts low, but soon grows in intensity. Once you can see, you are aware of one lone man in the center of the room, sitting in an antique rocking chair. He has a long beard, a simple white straw fedora, many tattoos on his arms, and a leather apron. His eyes are keenly focused on you. They are wide and wild. You meet his gaze for only a few seconds before looking away. Then a thought enters your mind. Chances are good that he has been sitting in that chair since before you walked into the room, yet all of the lanterns in the room require someone to light them with a match or other source of flame. Additionally, they all came on at once. "Don't think about it. It'll hurt if you do."

He can read your thoughts. It's hard to figure out if that is frightening, or a consolation.

"Perhaps a little bit of both," he says with a faint smile. "Please, sit down. I'll tell you why you're here."

The man gestures to a stool a few feet away that you would have sworn wasn't there a few moments ago.

"I said don't think about it," says the man. His tone isn't so kind and gentle this time. This time it was more of a warning.

You sit down on the stool and face the man. His smile returns. Something about it makes you not want to look him in the eyes, but you do so anyway. His eyes are like deep empty pools, dark and foreboding. Part of you thinks you are staring into the face of evil.

"Maybe it is," says the man, his smile growing a bit bigger. "You've come here for a reason. Let me tell you what that reason is. Are you comfortable?"

Far from it, but you know that complaining about it will do you no good. Some part of you also thinks he asked more out of facetiousness than anything else. The man just waits patiently. After a few more awkward seconds you nod your head to signal to the man that you are ready for him to continue.

"Let us continue then," says the man. His smile has faded, but his wide-eyed intensity has only grown. "Right here, right now, I am known as Bray Wyatt. Only lost souls seek me out. Their reason for doing so is not a given. Not all who search find me. In fact, only the most desperate ever truly find me. You. You must be one of those desperate souls. Now, I don't care why you sought me out. It really isn't important to me. The fact that you found me, that's what's important to me. So, stay. Sit with me here. We have nothing but time. Now, I do not offer you comfort. I do not offer you understanding. I do not offer you truth. I offer you knowledge. Simply knowledge. If knowledge brings you those other things, then so be it. Are you ready? Well? Are you? Don't say yes until you're sure. For once you say yes, there's no turning back. Take some time to think it over. Remember, we have nothing but time."

 **To be continued…**


	3. Thoughts and Questions

**Thoughts and Questions**

You sit in silence, thinking. The man known as Bray Wyatt watches you, unblinking. He rocks in his chair back and forth slowly and methodically, almost like a metronome. Though his body is moving, his eyes remain perfectly still. A flood of questions and worries race through your mind. The loudest questions in your mind are, "Is this Hell?" and "What brought me here?"

"It isn't and I already told you that it isn't important," Bray says, reminding you that your mind is not a private place. "At least, it isn't important to me."

His words give you absolutely no comfort.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he says calmly, but coldly. "But I also already told you that I don't offer you comfort."

You close your eyes and try in vain to calm down.

"Why is that?" he asks you plainly. "I have not said I intend you any harm. And my flock will not harm you either without my say. So the only thing that you could possibly find frightening right now is the truth that I openly and willingly offer to you. Is that the case?"

You can barely admit it, but he's right. Silently you nod your head.

"That is unfortunate," he says. "It is a sad reality that there are people in this world who cannot bear to face the truth when it confronts them. For them, lies and illusions are much easier to live with. What does that say about the state of this world? Does it say anything?"

You aren't sure.

"That is a wise answer," he says. "And a brave one. Admitting that you don't know something in the presence of a stranger takes courage. Let me ask you another question then."

You don't really want to answer questions from him, but you realize that you have little choice in the matter and likely could not stop him if you tried.

"Very true," he says casually. "Now, about my question to you. What if the truth sets you free and gives you the strength that right now you so sorely lack?"

You hadn't thought of that.

"I know," he says with a smile. "That's why I asked."

He gives you a few moments to allow that realization to sink into your mind. As it does, a calm washes over you. For the first time since before you set your eyes on the house you feel some degree of relief and security.

"And now we begin," says Bray.

 **To be continued…**


End file.
